Sparrowhawk - A Beginning
by Kasanra
Summary: How Claudia became and assassin. Takes place before Assassin's Creed II. Femslash. Crossdressing. COMPLETE. Read and Review.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:**__I do not own Assassin's Creed.

**AN: **I wanted to see more Claudia.

**AN2: **I like femslash. If there's a pairing, it'll be Claudia with a female.

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**Assassin's Creed 2 - Sparrowhawk**

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**Epilogue**

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**1472 - **11 years old.

On the rooftops, a guard cornered a small figure wearing a white coat and hood, and a plain brown cape. He had his bow armed and ready, the fletching brushing his cheek and a cruel smirk on his lips. His fingers relaxed. The small one turned and tried to run but the arrow pinned the hood of the cape to the wall, revealing the face of a young girl.

She automatically brought her hands to the arrow and removed it from the wall and hood, carefully watching the guard. She watched his smirk change to surprise, and then slowly, slowly into a leering grin. Her mind raced, making plans and discarding them. She knew there were guards within shouting distance but she didn't know if they were the good kind or not. So while she couldn't scream for help, she couldn't give _him _the chance to either.

She turned and ran up the wall, high enough to gather her legs under her. She felt a tug at her cape and twisted around, jumping straight at the guard. She knocked him down and placed one hand under his chin and pushed. With her other hand, she rammed the arrow into his exposed throat, severing his voice box and forcing him to breathe in blood. The guard jerked, kicking out and grasping at her in panic. She ripped the arrow out and tried again, this time going for the jugular.

He died quickly but it ended with her covered in his blood.

It was the first time she killed a man.

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**Chapter One**

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**1475** - 14 years old.

Claudia Auditore da Firenze didn't mind dressing up in long gowns with layered skirts. She rather liked the ruffles and lace. But what she _really _loved was wearing her 'other' clothes; the simple coat, imitating the ones found in her father's secret room, without the sash and with a piece of cloth hiding the lower half of her face. She loved running across rooftops, climbing buildings and teasing guards. Sure she got into some trouble. But she was _never_ caught long enough for it to matter.

Killing was not uncommon for her.

But she never wanted to kill.

Until today.

Today was a quiet day. She was strolling along, picking pockets and enjoying the sun when she heard the smack of flesh on flesh and then someone crying out. She scrambled up a building and ran towards the noise. She looked down into an enclosed yard. A large man was moving over a woman, one hand gripping her wrists over her head and the other crossed over her chest.

Enraged, she dropped down, catching the last ledge and then jumped off, knocking the man off the woman. She rolled to her feet, bared her dagger and rushed over to press it against his neck. Her body was tense, trembling with the urge to press down, to stab, to slash, but her mind was racing. The man was wearing elaborate robes. Someone with money, status. She turned her head a bit and saw the guards from the corner of her eye, stationed at the yard's only exit. If she killed him there, then the woman would be blamed.

Claudia grit her teeth and pulled back. The man mistook the trembling as weakness and his confidence grew. He swiped out with his fist and caught the her unprotected side. It was a weak punch, but for a fourteen year old girl, the pain robbed her of breath. Still, she rolled to her feet and kept the herself between the woman and the man.

"Spirited little boy, aren't you?" the man laughed. He got to his feet and straightened out his clothes. He regarded the small figure and thought that the boy was just entering puberty. A brother probably. Too young for real work but willing to take care of his sister. He fondled his purse. "Here," he said and tossed a handful of coins on the ground. "I just finished with her anyway."

Claudia watched the man walk away, memorizing his face, his body, making sure she wouldn't forget him. She sheathed her dagger once the man and his guards were gone and she was alone with the woman.

The young woman had black hair, done up in a distinctive style and she wore a simple green dress, cut very high and open in the front, the back nearly touched her ankles. Her slip was all that protected her 'modesty'. Her arms, shoulders, legs and feet were bare to the world.

The young woman was a whore.

A courtesans, if you're being polite.

It didn't matter to Claudia. All she saw were the bruised on the woman's arms, wrists and inner thighs, and the bitemarks around her neck, and the scratches on her chest and legs.

The man would die, Claudia decided. "Can I take you somewhere?"

"La Rosa Colta," the young woman whispered. Claudia nodded and helped the woman to her feet. They were about to leave when the woman stopped. "The money!" she exclaimed.

Claudia hesitated. She _hated_ the man. The money on the ground was an insult and not worth the effort of picking it up. But it was also the young woman's livelihood. She grit her teeth and knelt, gathering the money in one of her purses.

"You don't have to-"

She cut the woman off with a sharp gesture and collected the money in silence. Claudia stood, gave the purse to the woman, took her hand and led her out into the street. She turned and started walking.

It was only chance that led them to a trio of courtesans. They fluttered over the young woman, briefly, studied hooded 'boy' intently, and then turned and walked down the street with a purpose.

Which was good, since Claudia didn't know where La Rosa Colta was.

The courtesans strutted, cooed and giggled at passing men, who looked at them without seeing. Claudia found it interesting how they walked through the streets unhindered.

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Dora looked at the hand in hers. It was small and soft. Casually, she tilted their hands and examined the fingers. They were thin, the nails short and well taken care of. She looked at the body of 'boy' who helped her. The clothes were a little baggy but couldn't hide the slender body. It fit for a young boy but something was nagging at her about the way 'he' moved. Unfortunately, it was nothing she could point out.

She had a feeling that the 'boy' was a watchful one. That anything even the slightest bit odd would have 'his' attention. If Dora was right, then she needed to subtle. Or so bold as to be dismissed. She cupped the 'boy's hand in both of hers and brought it to her lips, a grateful expression on her face. The 'boy' twitched, watching her suspiciously. She couldn't look yet.

"Thank you," Dora whispered. 'He' nodded jerkily and looked away. Dora glanced down and saw the way the coat stretched over the 'boy's chest, hinting at breasts. She was right, then.

If she could read this "boy", then how could she misread that _man_ so badly?!

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La Rosa Colta was a lone building, unconnected to any others and lightly decorated with swags of red fabric. It had a small, flashy veranda in front with a red canopy and drapes dangling over the side, framing the main entrance.

Dora brought inside and into the back rooms. She sat in a chair and pulled the other girl close so her knees brushed against the girl's outer thighs. One woman was with them but she stayed near the door, the others were going to get the Madame, essentially leaving them alone.

"I wanted to thank you," Dora said softly.

Claudia felt trapped. She was tense, on the verge of panic. It was a trial to meet the woman's eyes and not look away or down at the woman's breasts.

Dora smirked and leaned closer, teasingly. She raised a hand and trailed her fingers over the younger girl's chest. "You should really bind your chest," she whispered seductively.

It took a few seconds for the words to process but when they did, Claudia's eyes widened.

Dora linked the fingers suggestively and caressed the girl's inner wrist with her thumb.

Claudia's heart jumped and her thoughts scattered.

"And maybe... wear some gloves." Dora slipped her hand up, and into the hood, her fingers brushing against the girl's neck and trailing the underside of her jaw, taking care not to remove the mask. Dora had no problem letting the younger girl keep her secrets.

Claudia felt a small tug, then lips brushed against her own, the feeling muted through her mask. Once. Twice. The woman leaned back, an amused smirk on her lips. Claudia's eyes narrowed. While she was glad that the woman was amused, she'd rather it _not_ be at her expense. Slowly, she leaned forward, a challenge in her eyes. The smirk widened.

The third kiss was soft, clumsy. Claudia's hand trembled.

The fourth was a soothing caress. A palm on Dora's forearm.

The fifth, slightly heated. Hot breath on Claudia's mask.

The sixth with growing confidence. A hand on Dora's shoulder.

A throat cleared.

Claudia jerked away and then twisted around, placing herself between the woman and the sound. Her thoughts cleared and she found herself looking at another woman, older, dressed in red with a collar that brought attention to her cleavage. There were also three other courtesans in the room but she dismissed them. The woman in red was the leader, and the strongest possible threat.

Claudia blushed. How did she miss them entering the room? She shuffled awkwardly and straightened, using the move to better hide the woman behind her.

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Paola studied the boy that was just making out with Dora. It didn't escape her attention that while his first move was to defend Dora, he didn't reach for his dagger. The beaked hood was unique, and the cut of his coat seemed a little familiar to her, but he had no other features marking him as an apprentice. He didn't bear the symbol of the brotherhood, or wear the red sash.

The silence stretched out.

"What do I call you?" Paola asked. The boy shuffled and muttered something. Her brow arched. "Pardon?"

"Sparrow."

"'Sparrow'..." Dora mused. The boy turned, nodded, and then stepped back to a respectful distance. Unusual in a brothel. "Thank you, Sparrow, for escorting me back," she teased. The boy nodded, bowed and left, not touching anyone else. Odd.

Paola turned back and was disgusted with marks on Dora. She hated when the men hurt her girl's. Hated when they took what wasn't theirs. "Let's get you looked at," she said. A lot of girls, new ones, like Dora, were usually shamed by things like this, or too afraid to try again. That Dora was willing to kiss a boy might be a good sign.

Or a bad one, since he was still just a boy.

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Claudia staggered into an alley and leaned heavily against the wall. She covered her mouth with her hand and blushed. "Sorry, Ezio," she muttered. She took back everything she said about her brother being an idiot for girls. She knew better now. Girls - women - had the power to render _anyone_ stupid.

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That man still had to die. It took a couple days but Claudia learned his name, his address, his banking information, and his guards' shifts. She had a vague idea of his routine and knew exactly how she wanted to kill him. She already made all the preparations.

Claudia napped in one of her boltholes during the day. She went home for the evening and played the good daughter. She didn't complain when Ezio started talking to Federico about his latest girl. After, she went into the library with Petruccio to read the latest chapter of their book. Then they talked about it as she worked on her drawing. Their mother, Maria, came by and reminded Petruccio to go bed. She smiled, put her things away and went to her own room.

Claudia changed into her nightgown and settled for another nap.

A man would be dead in a few hours.

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'That man' woke abruptly. He laid in bed, listening intently but heard nothing out of the ordinary. Least of all that Gods be damned banging that woke him up last night! He was about to fall asleep when her heard a girl giggling. Inside his room. He sat up, wide awake. He was alone. His door open.

A giggle echoed through the door. It sounded a little like a whore and a little like a child. Angered, he got up and marched out of his room. He caught a glimpse of cloth rounding the corner and ran after it.

He saw a door close and sneered. His guards had better not be entertaining whores inside his house! He slammed into the room and glared. It was empty.

Something clattered on the veranda and he marched over, all but growling his irritation. He brushed aside the drapes and walked out. He was alone. He smacked his palms against the railing in frustration. "Fucking thieves!" he hissed. It was the only thing he could think of.

Something brushed his ankle and he looked down. Something rammed into him, hard. Once. Twice! The railing broke with loud _crack!_ and he was falling! He screamed as the ground rushed up to meet him.

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_Crack!_

Screaming.

_CrackSNAPthud!_

Giovanni sprinted across the rooftops, towards the noise. It came from his target's place. He slid to a stop as he came to the yard. He peaked over the edge and saw his target sprawled out on the ground, arm broken and neck bent at an unnatural angle. A quick look showed the veranda's railing was shattered. He heard the heavy footsteps of some guards and decided to leave before they pinned the man's death on him.

He was circling the yard when he saw a shadow moving. He looked and spotted a young boy running. Odd, but not too unusual. He brushed it off and started towards the San Marco District. Paola would want to hear this.

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"And he was dead before you got to him?!" Paola exclaimed.

"Fell off his own veranda." Giovanni laughed.

"Well, Dora will be pleased to hear this," Paola said. "I think she was hoping for that boy to come back and 'comfort' her some more."

Giovanni paused. Paola tended to say _exactly_ what she meant. But... "'Boy'...?" Her gaze sharpened, pinning him in place.

"Yes, a boy." She clasped her hands and watched her brother. "Young, twelve, _maybe_. He wore a coat... a little like yours but plain, a little longer and solid grey, a white shirt, plain belt, no bracers. He also wore a white cloth mask and called himself 'Sparrow'."

Giovanni's eyes narrowed. It must be important for her to go into so much detail. "No other... destinguishing marks?"

"No," she stated.

Not an apprentice. Or maybe he is, just not from any known master, he mused.

"Did you see him or not?" Paola finally asked.

"I didn't get a good look at the boy," Giovanni told her. He shook his head and sighed. "I'll keep an eye out and place some markers. If the boy has a master, he'll know how to contact us."

"Maybe he'll make it easy on us and come see Dora," she mused doubtfully.

"Maybe," he sighed.

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Claudia stretched out on her bed with a large yawn. It was a productive night. She robbed and killed a man who deserved a lot more than that. If anyone asked any questions, they'd learn of the man's complaints about the noises the night before. With a newly looted house, they'd assume it was thieves that woke him both nights.

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So either the man interrupted the robbers and was pushed off the veranda (doubtful since there was no yelling or sounds of fighting) or he was chasing the thieves, tripped, and fell, breaking the veranda's railing (much more likely) before falling to his death. Giovanni smiled, the man-

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"-deserved no less," Dora declared. "The only thing that would of made it better was if he was naked at the time."

"Dora-" Paola sighed, a smile tugging at her lips. She shook her head and changed the subject. "Dora, if that boy, Sparrow, comes by again-"

"I'll tell you," she stated, not sure if it was a lie or not. She supposed it depended on how... discreet the young Sparrow was.

"Good."

Dora left, thinking about the younger girl. While she had thanked Sparrow for escorting her back to the brothel, the purse she got was filled with a lot more money then 'that man' threw at her. So that was something else to thank the girl for. And if Sparrow killed _him_, Dora wouldn't mind teaching her _everything_. She laughed at the thought.

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**End of Chapter One**

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**AN: **And so, the legend of Sparrowhawk begins. What do you think? Read and Review!


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:**__I do not own Assassin's Creed.

**AN: **Sorry if the pronouns bother you. While writing this I knew exactly who I was talking about and that stayed with me while I was reading it over.

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**Assassin's Creed 2 - Sparrowhawk**

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**Chapter Two**

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**1475 - **14 years old.

It was La Volpe that told Giovanni where to find the young Sparrow. Apparently the boy was learning from some thieves in the southern San Marco district. Not something an Apprentice would do. Still, he wanted to meet the boy and kept looking.

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Sparrow walked the southern edge of the San Giovanni District. She was looking for a mark. Someone to test herself against. She needed someone proud enough to chase her and not alert the guards. Someone young, fit, and wouldn't try to just kill her if she got caught.

Something caught her attention and she focused, looking down the crowded street. Claudia smirked as she spotted a familiar figure. It was Ezio. Her dear brother. He was nearly as tall as a man and was filling out well, if still a little reedy. But he was comfortable with his body. He was perfect. And coming her way. She snickered. When he was near, she rushed up to him, ripped the purse off his belt and ran a few paces away. When she turned, he was still standing there, looking at her like he couldn't believe what just happened.

"What!? My pouch - my money!" he flustered. This is perfect, Claudia thought.

"Oh... your money... I don't have your money!" Claudia called out with a deliberately annoying voice. She turned and ran down the street, laughing. It was a familiar taunt. And one that never failed.

"Get back here!" Ezio shouted. He charged after the fleeing figure.

"Make me!" Claudia knew that while she was fast, she wouldn't be able to outrun Ezio on an empty street. So she kept to the busy ones, slipping between the people, and listening to him bumping into them behind her. Suddenly, it went quiet. Claudia stopped to look over her shoulder. A shadow - she jumped aside and rolled to her feet! Ezio landed **hard **where she was just standing and toppled over.

Claudia knew Ezio. She knew when he was tired, when he was hurt, and when he was ready to stop playing. He wasn't either of those, but enough of all that she knew their chase was over. She dropped his purse and disappeared into the crowd. It was kind of disappointing since it ended so quickly.

But kind of not, since she knew he wouldn't just play on the streets.

The next chase would be interesting, she thought.

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"-and he just gave it back!" Ezio exclaimed. "Can you believe it?!"

"How insulting," Federico drawled.

"I know!"

Claudia smirked. It was a productive game that tested her agility and endurance. Plus, all that running and jumping made her really glad her breasts were strapped down since they stopped hurting and getting in the way. She wondered if that was what the courtesan was trying to tell her.

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It was difficult to gather information since the thieves closed ranks but even _that_ told Giovanni something. Sparrow had the respect of the thieves guild. Maybe that was why La Volpe wouldn't tell him anything more.

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"You're making a big mistake, my friend!" Ezio shouted.

The streets weren't as crowded in this part of the district, but that was part of the fun. She needed to change levels, create obstacles. Sparrow ran towards a small cart and used it at large steps. At the top, she turned, ran up the wall, gathered herself and jumped to the side, barely making the post. Momentum helped her to the next one, and the business sign after that. She looked back in time to see Ezio misstep, stumbling off the cart and crashing to the ground.

Sparrow climbed to the roof and put the purse down. Then she climbed down the other side of the building and followed the alley back to the streets.

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"That little bastard's copying me!"

"Copying _me_, you mean," Federico corrected. He smiled at Ezio. "I'm the one who taught you that."

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"Enough of this!" Ezio yelled.

Uh oh, Sparrow thought. He sounded angry. "Enough indeed!" Maybe she shouldn't have robbed him while he was chatting with that girl. But he looked so smug after that girl kissed him that she couldn't help ruining his moment. "Why don't you give up?" She slid down a roof and caught the edge. Then she let go. Catch and release, she was on the ground in a small, enclosed garden. She looked up. Ezio was looking down. She waited but shook her head when he started looking around. The ladder was on the other side of the garden.

By the time Ezio was on the ground, the purse was abandoned and he was alone.

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"-have to admire the brat," Ezio admitted grudgingly. "He makes it look easy."

"Hmm... I wonder if he'll play with me," Federico mused.

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Giovanni checked back at La Rosa Colta. Apparrently, Sparrow was seen hanging around the brothel but never in the company of any of the girls. He disappeared a few days ago and wasn't seen again. Was Sparrow looking for something?

He should talk to Dora again.

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**1476** - 15 years old

"Return what you've stolen!"

Damn! She picked a fine time to play! "Would if I could, but I can't."

It was winter and the snow made the rooftops even more dangerous than usual but the streets were nearly empty and she'd of been caught within minutes. The flat box in her hand made running and climbing difficult but not impossible. Sparrow ran up a wall and jumped off, reversing direction. She glimpsed Ezio's surprise but didn't stop to look back. Still, she heard him stumble, swear, and run after her again. She retraced their steps until she neared the place she wanted.

She sprinted across a building and jumped! It was just her and the wind. A moment of weightlessness. Freedom. Then she was falling. The building across the street was lower, flat, and padded with snow that would break her fall. She landed, jumped, and tried to roll to her feet but the snow slowed her down too much. A shout caught her attention and she looked.

Ezio had jumped, a feral grin on his face.

Fuck! Sparrow got to her feet and tried to run. Ezio landed, and jumped forward, tackling her. They rolled through the snow, laughing.

"I caught you!" Ezio exclaimed. He didn't let the younger boy go for fear of him running again.

"You did," Sparrow nodded. She patted Ezio's hand and sat up, scooting over a bit so they were side by side. "But only because I was holding _this._" She handed back the small box.

"Excuses," Ezio teased. He slipped the box back in his coat and examined the younger boy. He didn't have an eye for ages but Ezio thought the boy was just entering puberty. The boy, he scoffed. "What's you're name, anyway?"

"Sparrow."

"'Sparrow'?" Kind of sissy, wasn't it? "That's kind of sissy."

"'Sissy'?" The irony amused Claudia and she laughed. Here she was, sitting next to her brother... She shook her head. "It's short for Sparrowhawk."

"'Sparrowhawk'..." Ezio tried. "That's bett-"

"What are you doing up here!" a guard yelled.

"Sorry!" Ezio yelled back. He helped the Sparrow up and then walked away to climb down the side of the building. Back on the streets, Ezio noticed he was alone. His hand went to his purse, the other touched the box in his coat. Both were still there. He laughed to himself and started walking home.

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"Happy birthday," her family yelled. Her main party was held during New Years day, open to everyone. Her _real _birthday party was a private, family affair and meant so much more to her.

"I made this for you," Petruccio handed over a wooden figure. Claudia knew it wasn't a sparrowhawk but still felt her heart stutter. It was an immature carving of an eagle but it still showed it's predatory, majestic nature.

"I love it," she declared and kissed his cheek.

"And _this_ is from me," Federico handed over a thick box. She opened it up and saw a pair of boots. They were for boys.

"Federico!" Maria scolded.

"It's not like anyone will see them!" he stated with a laugh. Then he scowled. "They'd better not be seen since they'll be hidden beneath your skirts," he growled. Claudia laughed and kissed his cheek too.

"What's next?" she asked, ignoring her oldest brother.

"Me," Ezio brandished a familiar small box and presented it to her. He smirked. "I hope you appreciate the trouble I went through."

"I always do, brother." Claudia took the box with a secret smile. Inside was a gold pendant, just like the one her brothers had, except it was smaller and more feminine. "Thank you!" She beamed at him.

"What? No kiss for me?" he pouted. She rolled her eyes and kissed his cheek.

"I was debating what to get you and it was either embroidery or fencing." Giovanni sighed theatrically as he handed CLaudia a folded letter, making her laugh. The men in her family were such drama queens. She opened the letter and read it. It was an address and a schedule... For what? She looked at him curiously.

"He settled on both and got you archery lessons," Maria explained dryly.

"Papa!" Claudia threw herself at him and peppered his cheek with kisses.

"How do you know that?" Giovanni whispered to his wife in awe.

"I know everything," she whispered back, winking at her daughter. Claudia giggled innocently.

The private party went on for a little while longer. It ended when Maria took Claudia to the girl's room. Women's stuff, the males thought.

"I got you clothes," Maria stated bluntly.

Claudia looked at her oddly. It was unusual for her mother to spoil a surprise like that. Inside her room were a few mannequins wearing elaborate dresses. Beautiful crimson and black. Scarlet and gold. Mahogany and plum. They were bold and unlike anything else she owned. The second was already her favorite.

Maria ignored them all and moved towards the bed. She pulled out a chest and opened it. Inside were boys clothes, a lot like the ones Sparrow wore. She layed them out on the bed. White shirts, loose white pants, a belt with small pouches attached, leather gloves with small metal plates on the knuckles, a white cloth attached to a string and a coat. Laid out, it looked like a plain grey robe with a beaked hood, and simple white designs along the hem. It looked... familiar.

"Mama?"

"It's based on something I'm not supposed to know about," Maria told her. "I don't know what kind of knives you carry, so I'll give you mine." It was one Claudia coveted. It was short, grey dagger with beautiful lines and a delicate looking handle that curved back on itself to protect the wielder's fingers. "You'll have to figure something out if you carry more than one." Maria sighed. "I'd rather you _not_ get into fights but..." She took out a simple leather chest guard. It was made for boys.

"H-how did-did you know?" Claudia whispered. Maria gave her a pitying look and handed her another belt. It looked simple, but the rectangular buckle had a design etched on it. It was her father's symbol.

"Claudia," Maria sighed. "I know everything."

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"I know where Sparrow's been." Federico announced as he entered the office. Giovanni looked up at his son. "He's been playing with Ezio. Tag or follow the leader. Something."

"Tag?" Giovanni was baffled.

"Yes, father. Sparrow's been stealing Ezio's purse and leading him on a chase for _months_!" he laughed. "Sparrowhawk's amazing from what he says. Ezio only caught him once and that was because of the snow."

Sparrowhawk? Playing? Giovanni sighed. "They're still just boys," he mused.

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"I'm going to kill you!" Ezio roared, still dripping from the puddle he was knocked into.

"Now where's the fun in that?!" Sparrow yelled back. She scrambled straight up a building with Ezio right on her tail. She laughed as she jumped from covered chimney to covered chimney. He was _right there_ but was flustered, unsure how to grab her. She bolted on the rooftops. She jumped down an alley, and onto a beam of wood. She crossed over and ran up the other building. Ezio caught the connected beam with his hands and had to pull himself up before following. He swore, she laughed.

Sparrow saw a platform up ahead, with a small, rooftop garden. She ran along the edge of the roof and looked over. The roof across the street was lower than the one they were running across. Perfect! She started sprinting in a wide curve and heard Ezio do the same. She planted one foot on the railing, then the other, and coiled herself for the jump. Then she stopped. A moment later, Ezio was jumping over the street.

Ezio rolled to his feet and looked back. Sparrow stooped on the wooden railing like some small bird of prey on the hunt. He sighed and looked over the edge. The street wasn't that wide and there were a lot of handholds on the other building. He took a few steps back, then ran forward and jumped. He caught a ledge and started climbing.

He knew it. There, in the center of the platform was his purse. Ezio picked it back up and tied it to his waist. He lost this round. Again. He sighed and started walking. A few steps away he felt a soft tug at his waist. He looked down. His pouch was missing!

"Can't catch me!" Sparrow shouted.

.

Giovanni stood atop a church and watched the boys play. He shook his head at their antics. He would wait a bit, before approaching Sparrow. He was impressed with the boy. With both of them really but it was obvious that Sparrow was better at free-running. If he didn't have a master, Giovanni could recruit him and train him to be an assassin. Maybe. Later, perhaps.

For now, he'd let the boys have their fun. It reminded him of the games he and Mario used to play.

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**End of Chapter Two**

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**AN:** I played the game. My Ezio has very straightforward assassination style since I always forget he has _more_ than the hidden blades, sword, and fists. So, I was going to write this like him always getting in Claudia's way. Now I'm wondering if I should make them partners.

How would that work, I wonder?


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:**__I do not own Assassin's Creed.

**AN: **I wrote this wanting to see more Claudia, but it's turning into a Sparrow fic. I think I'm disappointed.

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**Assassin's Creed 2 - Sparrowhawk**

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**Chapter Three**

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**1476 - **15 years old.

Sparrow was strolling across a roof, wondering what to do with her day. Ezio was trolling for girls, her oldest brother was working at the bank, Maria and Petruccio were entertaining guests, and she didn't have archery lessons today.

"Maybe the guys..." She could try racing against the thieves again. She was really good and could could keep up with the men when they led. When she led, she could lose them after a while. She wanted to know if her games with Ezio improved her free-running skills. Plus, she wanted to know if a bow and hip quiver would restrict her movements. Having the quiver on her back while free-running seemed like an easy way to lose arrows. Having it on her hip didn't seem too different than carrying a sword, right?

_Tap, tap, tap._

Sparrow crouched low, her cape brushing the shingles and turned her head. There was a man on the roof with her, only a few paces away. He stood tall, the sun on white creating a halo like effect, the familiar hood cast hid the man's face in shadows. The large buckle stood out starkly against the crimson sash. Fuck. She knew that coat.

"Are you the Sparrowhawk?"

It was her father. Claudia swallowed, glad her own cape hid most of her clothes. She swore that after this she'd only wear the belt with the blank buckle. She nodded, tense.

"I've been looking for you."

He stepped forward, startling Sparrow. She strafed back and coiled, ready to run or attack. He paused and spread in arms, palms out to show his empty hands. All Sparrow saw was the sword and dagger at his hip and the throwing knives strapped to his body. Right shoulder, both sides of his belt, and his boots. Interesting. She inched back.

"Dora," he stated.

Sparrow faltered. Her body wanted to relax. It also wanted to attack. She really _really_ didn't want to do either. It was her father. She trusted him but she didn't want him to know anything about the Sparrow. "Is she okay?" Sparrow asked tightly, and inched back again. She was nearing the edge of the roof.

"She's fine. The Madame wanted to know if you killed her attacker."

Sparrow inched back.

"To thank you."

She froze.

Dora was right, the Sparrow was a suspicious little guy. Nothing Giovanni said or did seemed right. He doubted he could get the boy to stay long enough to recruit him. It was worth a try, he sighed and forced himself to relax.

"You did then. How did you do it?" The boy was as still as a rock. It didn't even look like he was breathing. Giovanni couldn't see his eyes. "You weakened the railing the night before," he prompted. The silence stretched.

"..."

"'Rope'?" he repeated. The boy jerked and jumped back, creating more space between them.

Good hearing! Claudia thought, alarmed. She had barely breathed the answer, her voice rising no higher than a whisper. Was that normal? The Madame had _barely _heard her before but no one else seemed to.

"I'm not going to hurt you, my friend," Giovanni soothed. "I just want to know how you did it. And if you killed before."

Claudia hesitated. Then spoke in a soft, low voice. "I weakened the railing with a small chisel the night before. The night I killed him, I..." She looked at her father. He was listening intensely, not alarmed or angry, but rather like a student willing to learn. "I went into his room and woke him. He didn't see me. Or not a lot. I lead him to the livingroom and hid behind a couch. When he came inside, I threw a small rock out onto the veranda."

.

"And when 'that man' went to look, the young Sparrowhawk wrapped a length of rope around his ankle and pushed him into the railing," Giovanni explained.

"'Rope'?" Paola repeated. Her Brother nodded.

"To make sure he fell right. Afterall, the Sparrowhawk couldn't have 'that man' break a leg and live to tell the tale," he finished.

"Our little Sparrowhawk is... very subtle," Paola commented, a touch of admiration in her voice. "If Sparrow was in 'that man's room, he could have just stabbed him while he was sleeping. And you say he's killed before?"

"'Not a lot'," he quoted. "'Just a few guards that made themselves too much trouble'."

"So, our little Sparrowhawk can kill on the fly _and_ plan a murder without getting caught. And you're certain you won't recruit him?"

"He's not comfortable with me," Giovanni mourned. And the boy had such potential.

"Can I have him?"

.

"Can you teach me how to use throwing knives?" Sparrow asked a thief. He went by the name Sandro and was the one who taught her how to fight. She knew how to use daggers and throw them if she had to. But those throwing knives her father had were small and elegant looking. She wanted them.

"Sure. It's really not that hard and just takes some practice for accuracy." He looked at Sparrow and grinned. "Two thousand florins."

"What?! Two thousand-" she spluttered.

"Sure," he shrugged. "A knife belt - a _good_ knife belt - costs 3, 000 and a knife costs 50 at the blacksmiths. All together, the equiptment alone comes to 3, 250."

"All that for five knives?" Sparrow asked in shock.

"You gotta pay for quality goods." Sandro eyed Sparrow's clothes. His weapons. His armor. "And I know you like quality."

"And I can't just lift them from a store?" Resigned.

"Nope. We got a deal with them-"

"'We don't take from them, they don't ask questions'," Sparrow repeated. She sighed and stood. "Thanks, Sandro. I'll see you in a few days."

"'A few days'? Got something big planned?"

"No," she shook her head. "I am avoiding..." Sparrow trailed off, wondering what to say.

"Ah! The Assassin!" Sandro nodded. "Who did you kill to catch his attention, my young friend?"

"No one important," she muttered.

"Ah."

.

A few weeks later, Sparrow was at the far east part of the city, still practicing with her throwing knives. She was playing with the different levels and ranges offered to her from the rooftops. She now had ten knives on her. The first time was a real discount, the second time, she had to pay in full. It made a dent in her caches but after years of picking pockets, she still had a lot of currency hidden away.

"You've gotten good."

Sparrow startled, but her aim was true, hitting the wooden beam right where she wanted. She glared at Sandro. She saw his eyes dilate before they skittered to the side.

"Easy, my friend, I bring a message." He jumped across the street and landed on the lower building. He turned and looked at Sparrow. Sandro liked watching his friend free-running. Sparrow always looked quiet and unassuming when standing still or walking - but when the boy was running or jumping, his cape and clothes flaired out. It was as impressive as it was intimidating.

The boy landed quietly, his right hand gripping the arrows to keep from rattling against eachother. Sparrow retrieved his knives and sheathed them in a smooth, practiced move. Oddly, it made Sandro wonder what color the boy's skin was. He used to know but now Sparrow was covered from head to toe, his lower face covered by a cloth mask and his eyes were either hidden or shadowed by his hood.

"The message?"

"It's from the Madame of La Rosa Colta." His friend always spoke softly. Sandro guessed it was to hide the high tones of his youth. "She's been very discreet, telling only a few thieves that she'd like to meet you." He shook his head. "You must be making a name for yourself. First the Assassin and now the Madame... I wonder why I never heard of you."

"Ha!" Sparrow shifted, his body language was open and carefree now. "You knew me since I was a kid, Sandro. You taught me everything I know."

"It's been..." Sandro thought back then blew out a breath in surprise. "Almost five years now." He looked at his friend. Sparrow was a lot taller now, but still looked like a boy in his early teens. "You _must_ be interested in girls by now." A thought alarmed him. "Have you had one? Have you even been kissed?!"

"Sandro!" Sparrow yelled. She bit back her retort and shied away. This was awkward. "I-I've already..." ... been kissed... She blushed.

Poor boy, Sandro mused. It was good that Sparrow had a low voice coming on since he was a small, wiry boy. Hopefully, the boy was handsome too. It would be a shame if he was pretty. "Let's go, my friend, to La Rosa Colta. I buy you a woman." He threw an arm around Sparrow's shoulders and started walking.

"Ack! I can get my own!"

"I'll believe _that_ when I see it!"

.

Sparrow took the lead, wondering what to do. She didn't want to talk to the Madame but she couldn't _not_ go now. Not since Sandro questioned her supposed 'masculinity'. She hated that young men were so sensitive. She led the way to La Rosa Colta, knocked on the front door and waited. Technically, it was a brothel and they could walk right in, but Claudia was raised better then that. The door was answered by a courtesan.

"Is Dora in?" Sparrow asked... like she was some suitor visiting a respectable girl. She blushed when the woman giggled.

"Come inside." The woman drapped herself over Sparrow and pulled the girl inside. "This one's calling on Dora," she called out. Some women giggled, some men laughed, but quickly turned back to their own pursuits.

"Smooth," Sandro whispered. Sparrow flicked his cape and ignored him. Dora. Sandro looked around. A courtesan came out one of the back rooms and beamed at his young friend. The woman was young and pretty with black hair and olive skin.

"I've been waiting for you!" Dora declared, walking up to Sparrow, and grabbing his arm. "Let's get a room."

Sandro watched as Dora pulled his friend into a room and decided that Sparrow liked determined women. And that _maybe _his young friend didn't need his help afterall.

.

"How much?" Sparrow asked softly.

"What?"

"For your time. And the room."

Dora hesitated. She had planned on this... encounter being a thank you. Free. But that was just bad buisness. She shook her head and examined the younger cloaked girl. Sparrow now wore a light leather chest guard and a better arsenal. The clothes she wore looked simple, but they were of better quality than before.

"Two hundred florins," Dora stated. "Standard price."

.

Sparrow - Claudia - paid the other woman and took off her cape. She stepped back when the courtesan tried to help her undress.

"I don't... want..." Claudia tensed, uncertain.

Dora softened. In a way, she knew that the younger girl was still innocent. She doubted that Sparrow truly suffered anything. She raised her hand and placed it on the other girl's chest guard. "Remove this and your belt, at least." Then she stepped back and waited. "You're gloves, too." Sparrow hesitated, then complied, laying them out on the desk, or beside the bed. Dora laid down on the bed and motioned for the younger girl to join her.

Sparrow tensed when the courtesan curled into her. When the woman did nothing else, she relaxed and wrapped her arms around the woman. She settled into a meditative state, just listening to the other woman breathe. One hand was on the woman's back, fingers absently tracing her bustier. Her other hand was curled around the woman's forearm, caressing her skin.

Dora's skin.

Sparrow frowned. Fully clothed as she was, she couldn't really _feel_ the other woman. There was a real, physical barrier between them. But she could still feel Dora's weight upon her chest, her heat along her side, the woman's skin beneath her hand. Sparrow turned her head, nuzzling the other woman's hair.

"Can I kiss you...?" she whispered softly.

Dora smiled. Yes. Sparrow was still innocent.

.

"You walk like a girl," Dora commented after a while. She had _finally _figured out what was bothering her but wasn't sure how to explain it. "Or, at least, not like a man. A boy."

"What do you mean?" Claudia asked. If she was going to meet the Madame, she didn't want to be found out as a girl. Sparrowhawk was a boy and separate from Claudia Auditore da Firenze. Or they had been, before Dora.

"You walk slow," the courtesan mused, "and without the long strides of a man." Or most men. She wondered what to do, how to help the other girl without making her seem unnatural. "Maybe you just..." She bit her lip and thought some more, wondering if it would work. Finally, she just shrugged. It couldn't hurt. "You need a codpiece." She sat up and looked under Sparrow's long coat, ignoring the younger girl's squawking. Sparrow wore simple, dark brown pants. Loose to help hide her curves, Dora assumed. And with no place for a codpiece. "Damn."

Men did think it important, Claudia knew. She had heard all kinds of jokes and sayings when running with the thieves. Still, she didn't know if having one could change the way a person moved and walked. Then again, she _did _have to adjust to her pouches. And again with her daggers and throwing knives. And again with her hip quiver.

Maybe having one _could_ change the way a person moved.

.

**End of Chapter Three**

.

**AN:** Claudia complained that young men were sensitive about their masculinity being questioned, yet she didn't even notice that Sandro _wasn't_ challenging 'Sparrow's.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:**__I do not own Assassin's Creed.

**AN: **I wrote this wanting to see more Claudia, but it's turning into a Sparrow fic. I think I'm disappointed.

.

**Assassin's Creed 2 - Sparrowhawk**

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**Chapter Four**

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**1476 - **15 years old.

"Maybe a loincloth...?" Claudia wondered. Thinking about it, that seemed the best idea since it would keep the piece in place and still allow her to wear her pants.

"Good idea." Dora brightened. She crawled to the chest at the foot of the bed and looked inside. She pulled out a long crimson scarf. They both stared.

Claudia didn't know why, but having something that color nestled against her seemed... wrong somehow.

"It's not like anyone will see it," Dora offered. She knew. Kind of. Having a red cloth against female privates meant someone was having their monthlies.

"Right." No one would see. Claudia forced herself to look away and found herself looking at her belt. The codpiece. She moved to her belt and looked inside one of the pouches. Inside were a collection of empty money bags. She sorted through them. Some were the wrong shape. Some were too big. Some were too small. Finally, she settled on three and filled them with the other bags. One filled out oddly and was discarded. "What do you think?"

"Hmm..." Dora examined them. Very generally, the shape was right. She picked them up and handled them, one at a time. Comparing it to Sparrow, Dora judged the sizes to be right. Finally, she just picked the prettier pouch. "This one."

"Okay..." Claudia placed the scarf and pouch on the desk and unbuttoned her coat. She glanced over and saw Dora. Dora who was laying on the bed and watching, an amused smile on her lips. Claudia blushed and turned away before dropping her pants. Her long coat hid her skin from the other woman's view.

"Aww..." Dora drawled teasingly.

.

Someone knocked on the door and entered. Claudia, scared into stubbornness, simply finished tying her pants and fixing her clothes. Then she turned her Eagle's Stare on the woman, pinning her in place. Something in her relaxed as she examined the courtesan, but she didn't let it show. The courtesan was an older woman with brown hair - tied up in the usual fashion - lightly tanned skin and wore a purple 'dress' with 'sleeves'. Sparrow knew the woman had a dagger within her skirts and that she used it whenever it was called for. She ducked her head a bit, hiding her eyes. She cringed when she heard the woman start breathing again.

"Madame Paola is calling for you, Sparrowhawk."

"Thank you." The woman's voice was strong but Claudia saw her hands trembling as she bowed. She closed her eyes and forced her body to relax, leaning back against the desk. The woman's reaction wasn't unusual. "Dora will escort me there." Even after nearly five years of knowing eachother, Sandro still sometimes held his breath when Sparrow turned her Eagle's Stare on him - and he was the one that named it.

"I was told to bring you to her and I will," the courtesan stated, regaining her composure.

"Very well." Claudia frowned beneathe her hood. Dora went to Sparrow and started helping the younger girl with her armor, touching her more than necessary.

"Wait outside, Camilla," Dora ordered.

Camilla hesitated. The boy's stare had chilled her to the core. Looking at him now, all she could see was the familiarity between the two. The Sparrowhawk seemed uncomfortable but he was passively allowing the touch. She nodded belatedly and left.

"The pouch is working," Dora whispered.

Claudia was surprised. All she did since putting it on was turn around and lean back against the desk. She looked down her body. Her legs were slightly parted but the jacket covered any hint of the pouch. She could see nothing masculine about herself.

"It's working. Trust me."

.

"Enter," Paola called out. She was a patient woman but she hated making mistakes. She hadn't expected the Sparrow to visit Dora before coming to speak with her. Maybe she should have. But then the boy had seemed like such a polite young man, the first time they met. Was she wrong?

She watched the boy bow to her. It was a cautious move, and one that came naturally to him. Was he a noble? Paola wondered. She dismissed Camilla and studied the boy in silence. She wondered why the boy wore such simple clothes if he was _truly_ a noble. Perhaps the Sparrow was the son of a servant? No matter. She intended to test the boy.

"I want you to do a job for me," Paola stated. She waited a moment but the boy didn't speak. "I want you to kill a man." The boy didn't react. There were a few jobs she could give him but she wanted to test the boy's resolve. "There's a herald in the courtyard of the Piazza della Signoria. He doesn't say anything alarming but he has been... encouraging his listeners to teach women their place." The boy shifted but there was no other reaction. "It has caused damage to my girl's." He tensed slightly.

Ah, a protector, Paola thought. And one who cared about the women. Good. Almost perfect. All she needed to know now was if the boy could kill on demand.

"I want you to use this." She pulled out a small, sheathed knife and set it on the table. "Bring it to me, wet with his blood, and I'll consider the job complete."

The silence stretched as Sparrow thought it over, considering the job. She was pretty sure she could do it, especially if the herald was like the Madame said. But... "What's the reward?"

Even better! The Sparrowhawk was a buisnessman. "Six hundred florins." She regarded the boy and smiled. "Plus the knife, if you kill him without alarming the guards."

Sparrow thought it was a given. Afterall, she didn't want to get caught. She looked at the knife. It was a T-shaped push knife, with the blade as shaped like a flat arrowhead and was as long as her ring finger. Pretty. She unsheathed the knife and tested it's grip with her left hand. The blade came out from between her middle and ring finger and the flat crescent shaped handle kept it from sliding around. Sparrow wanted it. She got up, bowed, and left.

If the man was as bad as the Madame said, he'd be dead within an hour.

.

It was worse. The herald didn't incite the crowd but spoke words that settled in the back of a person's mind. He made it sound reasonable.

Claudia wasn't sure that he had to die but didn't know what else to do. And as the Sparrowhawk, she could kill the herald without getting the notoriety of an assassin. Decision made, Sparrow removed a small purse of florins and walked up to the herald. She whispered to him, telling him to promote a blacksmith's shop and bribed him with the coin purse. She stabbed him in the throat when he was tying it to his belt. She reached down, took her purse back, plus the one beside it, and walked away.

Sparrow looked out from beneath her hood. No one seemed alarmed yet. She kept walking.

.

Sparrow walked into the office and laid the knife on the desk. Paola stopped working.

"That was quick," Paola mused. When there was no reply, she retrieved a coin purse and put it on the table. "Six hundred florins, as promised." She examined the boy but found nothing amiss. No blood. No questions about the job. No emotional quandry. At least, none that she could see. "How are you feeling?"

Silence. "That wasn't my first kill," Sparrow said, softly. He took the knife and started cleaning it.

"But it _was _the first time you walked up to a stranger and stabbed them, yes?" Paola asked. Sparrow was still for a long moment. Then he nodded. "And in the throat, too. He must have suffered." The boy tensed. Relaxed. What did that mean? Paola wondered. She hated Sparrow's mask. She watched him handle the knife, turning his wrist to examine the blade. The boy liked his weapons. That was it. She was claiming him.

"I am part of a Creed, a Brotherhood," Paola started, getting his attention. "And that Brotherhood is guided by three tenants. The first tenant, 'Stay your blade from the flesh of an innocent.' The second tenant, 'Hide in plain sight'. The third tenant, 'Never compromise the Brotherhood'. Our actions must never bring harm to the Brotherhood - direct or indirect." Paola looked into the boy's eyes and smiled. "We are the Assassin's. _I_ am an Assassin. And _you_ have just been recruited."

The Sparrowhawk's eyes went from light brown to gold. He focussed on her intently, body tense, the push knife bared. Paola knew it wasn't a threat. Surprise, maybe. Alarm, definately. She smiled calmly as the pressure built. The boy was _gifted!_ And _hers!_

"Drafted, you mean," Sparrow growled. The tension thickened and her heart started to beat faster, exciting Paola. Such _potential!_

"You were already walking the path of an assassin," Paola explained gently. "It's the same path I walked. That _many_ have walked before you. I will take your hand and guide you as my teacher once guided me. You will no longer be alone." The tension eased as Sparrow relaxed. Paola remembered how vulnerable she felt when Giovanni took her under his wing. "You have already learned most of the skills an assassin needs but I will help you refine them. I can teach you the Creed and offer you direction and jobs but it'll up to _you _to accept or reject them."

"And if I don't want... _any_ of this?" Sparrow asked softly.

"You have already been recruited. So long as you abide by the Creed, you may live your life as you see fit. Just know that if you don't accept jobs, you won't show your skills and you'll never rise in rank. Without rank, you'll be discouraged from taking students - for their own good. Afterall, if you can't walk the path, you have no right to guide others."

"I-I need to think about this."

"Of course. Return when you are ready."

.

_You were already walking the path of an assassin._

Claudia rolled over and tried to sleep. She couldn't stop thinking about earlier.

_He must have suffered._

She remembered the first time she killed. That guard who was choking on his own blood and couldn't even scream. At least she killed him quickly. She wondered how long it took the herald to die.

_I am part of a Creed, a Brotherhood._

Claudia knew a bit about that. She had a family. She had brothers, both younger and older. Sparrow had the thieves guild. But it sounded like something... else from the way the Madame said it.

_The first tenant, 'Stay your blade from the flesh of an innocent.'_

Claudia never thought of becoming a vigilante. She never thought about trying to make the street safer for the common folk. She never thought of actively hunting down the bad guys. But that didn't stop her from killing them whenever she stumbled across one.

_The second tenant, 'Hide in plain sight.'_

Claudia knew how to get lost in a crowd but that was because most people were taller than her. She was facinated by how the courtesans seemed to dissappear. Everything about them was designed to attract attention - their clothes, their walk, their attitude, their smell. And yet they were The Unseen.

_The third tenant, 'Never compromise the Brotherhood'._

Sparrow was drafted. Trapped into the Brotherhood by the third tenant. Yet if what the Madame said was true, she could still like her own life. She wanted to test that.

_Our actions must never bring harm the Brotherhood - direct or indirect._

Claudia wondered if that meant she could tell Madame her true name. If the Madame would help her the way Dora was helping her. She wanted to know.

_I will take your hand and guide you as my teacher once guided me._

Sparrow and Claudia trained themselves whenever they could, making themselves better, stronger, faster, smarter. But for what? Why did she want to run? To climb? To jump? Why did she carry daggers? Throwing knives? A bow and arrow?

_You will no longer be alone._

Claudia wasn't alone - she had her family. The Sparrow wasn't alone - he had the thieves. Using both identities, they had a freedom most people didn't even _dream _about. But they didn't have purpose. They were restless.

_We are the Assassins._

A guild guided by a Creed she could live by.

_**I**__ am an Assassin._

A Madame with a house of Unseen.

_And __**you**__ have been recruited._

One of the Brotherhood.

_Return when you are ready._

.

Sparrow remembered her father's hearing and moved silently. She unlocked the window, opened it, and stepped inside. The Madame was sleeping. She slid into a seat and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees.

_Return when you are ready._

She was ready.

She had returned.

She would learn.

She would work.

She would have a purpose.

And that purpose would drive her to be the best.

Better than any man.

Better than any within the 'Brotherhood'.

Afterall, a female sparrowhawk was larger than the male.

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**End of Chapter Four**

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**AN: **Bleh. I burnt myself out writing this. I had started this just after I played AC2 and ACBrotherhood.

Damn it.


End file.
